^rrsnnnl  ^irttj  ns  llrlntrii  tn  tjjt  Bissinnnrt}  Itfnrk. 


A 


SERMON 


DELIVERED  BEFORE  THE 

FOREIGN  MISSIONARY  SOCIETY, 

OF 

NEW-YORK  AND  BROOKLYN, 


APRIL  4 AND  11,  1852. 


BY 

% 

REV.  ASA  D.  SMITH,  D.  D., 

FASTOR  OF  THE  FOURTEENTH  STREET  PRESBYTERIAN  CITUROH, 
NEW-YORK. 


|luiltslji&  ig  ± f) c SoTitts. 


NEW-YORK  : 

ALMON  M ERWIN,  150  NASS AU-STREET. 

1852. 


JOHN  F 
49 


. TROW,  PRINTER, 
Ann-strcot. 


SERMON. 


Psalm  li.  13. 

“ Do  good  in  thy  good  pleasure  unto  Zion : build  thou  the  walls  of 
Jerusalem.” 


Unique  as  was  the  origin  of  the  remarkable  lyric 
from  which  these  words  are  taken,  it  is  not  to  be 
regarded  as  the  outburst,  merely,  of  an  individual 
heart.  We  pass,  as  we  read  it,  from  the  particular 
to  the  universal.  Here,  as  in  other  Psalms,  we  may, 
as  Luther  expresses  it,  “look  into  the  hearts  of  all 
good  men.”  Nor  are  we  limited  to  any  single  element 
or  aspect  of  piety.  Penitence  is,  indeed,  prominent; 
but  there  are  linked  with  it,  according  to  the  immu- 
table laws  of  spiritual  affinity,  all  the  other  graces. 
These  graces  are  presented,  too,  in  a most  natural  or- 
der. There  is  a beautiful  climax ; the  principle  of 
development,  the  law  of  growth  obtains ; there  springs 
up  before  us,  as  from  the  dark  germ  to  the  flowery 
coronal,  a perfect  organism.  Nor  is  this  an  incongru- 
ous issue  of  the  individual  case.  The  restoration  of  a 
lapsed  believer  is,  in  its  elemental  character  and  its 
necessary  processes,  much  like  a first  conversion.  Such 


4 


was  David’s  recovery  ; with  perhaps  this  difference, 
that,  as  not  infrequently  happens,  he  was,  through 
abounding  grace,  brought  to  a loftier  position  than 
ever.  He  breathes  forth,  first,  the  most  sincere  and 
profound  contrition,  that  invariable  beginning  of  all 
true  godliness.  Under  the  burden  of  his  guilt,  he  looks 
not  to  any  righteousness  or  strength  of  his  own,  but  to 
God’s  pardoning  mercy,  and  to  his  sanctifying  Spirit. 
There  come  before  us,  then,  the  conscious  purity  of  the 
soul  divinely  cleansed,  and  the  joy  and  gladness  of  the 
forgiven  one.  Out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart,  we 
have  next  the  lips  speaking.  “ My  mouth,”  says  the 
Psalmist,  “ shall  show  forth  thy  praise.”  Nor  are  his 
thoughts  limited  to  the  narrow  circle  of  his  own  inter- 
ests ; — into  a broader  sphere  flow  forth  his  quickened 
affections.  He  would  “ teach  transgressors he  would 
see  sinners  converted ; his  earnest  desire  is,  that  God’s 
cause  may  prosper.  He  pours,  at  length,  the  fulness 
of  his  soul  into  the  words  of  the  text : — “ Do  good 
in  thy  good  pleasure  unto  Zion  ; build  thou  the  walls 
of  Jerusalem.” 

It  is  with  no  sufficient  reason,  that  certain  critics 
have  regarded  this  passage  as  not  a part  of  the  origi- 
nal Psalm,  but  a convenient  accretion  of  later  times. 
We  see  here,  most  clearly,  David’s  image  and  super- 
scription. How  natural  for  the  magnanimous  man  who 
exclaimed,  “These  sheep,  what  have  they  done?”  to 
beg  of  God,  in  this  connection,  that  from  the  sins  he 
bewailed  no  harm  might  come  to  others.  Nay,  with 
all  gracious  experience  — especially  with  the  profound 


5 


experience  here  unfolded  — the  outgoings  of  benevo- 
lence are  accordant  and  homogeneous ; they  are  its 
necessary  consummation.  There  is  in  our  text  no  forced 
or  strange  transition ; the  Psalm,  without  it,  were 
incomplete.  That  charity  which  is  not  only  the  ful- 
filling of  the  law,  but  the  essential  element  of  every 
Christian  grace,  though  it  does  in  a sense  begin  at 
home,  yet  abides  not  there.  While  its  centre  is  the 
throne  of  God,  its  circuit  is  the  universe.  In  David’s 
time,  it  is  true,  the  field  of  active  benevolence  was 
comparatively  limited  ; the  “ middle  wall  of  partition  ” 
was  not  yet  broken  down.  Yet  we  have  in  the  prayer 
before  us,  the  vital  element  of  all  modern  evangelism ; 
we  have  piety  here,  going  forth  from  its  inner  shrine, 
impelled  and  animated  by  the  spirit  awakened  and 
nourished  there,  to  scatter  blessings  wherever  it  may. 
We  have  a deep  Christian  experience  developing  itself 
in  Christian  philanthropy.  Were  the  heart  which  sug- 
gested these  words  throbbing  on  earth  now,  it  would 
be  satisfied,  we  may  be  sure,  with  nothing  less  than 
the  world’s  conversion.  We  put  no  constraint  upon 
this  passage,  then,  when  we  derive  from  it,  as  the 
subject  of  discourse  on  the  present  occasion,  Personal 
Piety  as  belated  to  tiie  Missionary  Work. 

We  speak  of  that  work  in  the  widest  sense,  includ- 
ing whatever  pertains  to  it  both  at  home  and  abroad. 
And  our  aim  is  to  show,  that  as  personal  piety  is  its 
source,  so  this,  under  God,  is  its  chief  reliance.  This  is 
the  vital  force  of  the  whole  movement,  the  grand  mo- 
tive power  of  all  the  machinery.  Abstract  or  weaken 


6 


it,  and  sluggishness,  inefficiency,  and  failure  ensue ; give 
it  depth  and  strength,  and  a world-wide  evangelism  is 
the  natural  and  even  necessary  result. 

I.  For  the  elucidation  of  this  subject,  it  may  be 
well  to  begin,  according  to  a good  old  method,  with 
a negative  view.  Certain  things  there  are,  unduly 
trusted  in  by  some,  but  which  are  in  themselves  as  a 
broken  reed.  Subsidiary  in  some  slight  measure  they 
may  prove,  if  the  heart  be  right  — nay,  important 
helps ; yet  without  true  and  deep  piety,  they  are  but 
as  a cheat  and  a mockery.  As  the  trellis-work  of  the 
arbor  they  may  be,  but  not  as  the  living  vine,  or  as 
the  principle  of  life  and  growth.  Not  one  of  them  is  to 
be  utterly  repudiated ; for  the  whole  creation  shall  be 
made  subservient  to  God’s  plan  of  saving  grace.  Yet 
we  may  not  substitute  them  for  the  great  spiritual 
motors. 

1.  I advert  first,  under  this  head,  to  natural  sym- 
pathy. To  this  many  of  the  aspects  and  issues  of  sin 
in  unevangelized  regions  make  a powerful  appeal.  I 
need  not  stop  to  show  how  illusory  are  certain  poetical 
rhapsodies  touching  the  state  of  nature.  Here  and 
there  a dreamer  may  be  found,  enamored  of  the  bliss- 
ful ignorance,  the  charming  simplicity,  the  exemption 
from  corroding  care  and  burdensome  conventionalities, 
the  large  liberty,  the  luxurious  leisure,  the  habit  of 
romantic  adventure,  which,  as  shaped  and  colored  by 
his  infatuated  fancy,  pertain  to  the  island  or  the  forest 
home  of  the  godless  savage.  Yet  Christendom  in  gen- 
eral is  well  informed  on  this  subject.  To  know  what 


7 


ancient  heathenism  was,  to  see  clearly  its  many  and 
varied  abominations  and  miseries,  we  have  only  to  turn 
over  the  pages  of  Leland  or  of  Tlioluck.  To  see  what 
man  still  is,  without  the  light  of  the  Gospel  — how 
low  he  sinks,  how  the  springs  even  of  earthly  enjoy- 
ment are  either  dried  up  or  poisoned  — we  need  only 
look  at  the  beautiful  isles  of  the  Pacific  as  Christianity 
found  them,  at  the  barbarous  tribes  of  Western  or 
of  Southern  Africa,  or  at  the  besotted  multitudes  of 
China  or  of  Hindostan.  We  touch  not  now  on  the 
future  consequences  of  sin,  or  on  the  more  spiritual 
evils  it  here  engenders.  We  advert  only  to  its  more 
palpable  inflictions,  to  the  wants  and  woes  quite  visi- 
ble even  to  the  eye  of  the  natural  man. 

From  the  broad  empire  of  idolatry,  as  in  one  vast 
moving  panorama,  what  shapes  of  evil  does  imagina- 
tion summon ! Behold  these  motley  myriads,  squalid 
and  loathsome,  the  “ human  face  divine  ” made  brutal 
and  fiendlike.  Look  into  that  dwelling,  the  miserable 
substitute  for  what  we  love  to  call  home,  and  mark 
not  merely  the  meagreness  of  its  appointments,  but 
the  utter  absence  of  all  the  sweet  and  gentle  fireside 
charities.  Over  its  forbidding  portal  you  see  written, 
“ Without  natural  affection.”  Behold  the  mother,  as 
she  issues  forth,  her  heart  petrified  by  superstition,  to 
cast  the  babe  from  her  bosom  to  the  monsters  of  the 
flood.  By  his  own  children  the  aged  and  enfeebled 
father  is  led  away  to  die  alone  and  unheeded.  The 
husband  expires,  the  funeral  pile  is  erected,  and  the 
frantic  widow  casts  herself  upon  it.  A group  of  hea- 


8 


then  devotees  are  before  us,  with  stiffened  limbs  and 
lacerated  bodies.  A pagan  altar  presents  itself,  all 
stained  with  human  gore ; and  over  willing  victims 
roll  the  ponderous  wheels  of  the  idol’s  car.  The 
bloody  Dyak  is  here,  with  his  vaunted  store  of  human 
heads ; and  savage  tribes  rush  to  the  battle-field,  eager 
not  for  vengeance  alone,  but  for  the  profits  of  the 
slave-mart. 

We  object  not  to  showing,  by  these  and  other  like 
illustrations,  that  “ the  dark  places  of  the  earth  are 
full  of  the  habitations  of  cruelty.”  It  is  only  thus 
that  the  true  nature  of  sin  can  be  set  forth.  That 
appeals  of  this  sort,  as  they  have  moved  the  sensibili- 
ties of  men,  have  had  some  influence  in  urging  on  the 
missionary  work,  we  do  not  doubt.  Especially  have 
they  been  serviceable,  when  other  aspects  of  heathen- 
ism, and  considerations  of  a loftier  and  more  spiritual 
kind  have  been  the  primary  incentives.  What  we  in- 
sist on  is,  that  we  must  beware  of  confiding  unduly  in 
such  appeals.  For  this,  as  for  every  other  form  of 
philanthropy,  a slender  basis  is  a mere  humanitarian- 
ism.  Little  will  be  accomplished,  if  the  main  fountain 
of  missionary  feeling,  a true  and  deep  Christian  expe- 
rience, be  lacking.  The  point  of  sacrifice  and  self- 
denial  will  hardly  be  reached..  It  will  be  but  the 
surface  of  our  being  that  is  stirred  ; the  depths  below 
will  be  all  unmoved.  And  even  the  superficial  agita- 
tion must  in  the  nature  of  things  soon  cease.  Fa- 
miliarity with  exciting  and  horrifying  scenes,  where 
there  is  no  deeply  seated  and  powerfully  operative 


9 


religious  principle,  must  soon  beget  comparative  in- 
difference. 

2.  Nor  may  we  lean  with  greater  assurance  on 
what  may  be  called  the  cesthetic  principle.  God  has 
so  made  us,  that  we  have  a susceptibility  to  the  beau- 
tiful and  the  sublime  wherever  seen.  We  are  touched 
by  these  qualities  in  external  nature,  but  still  more  in 
the  province  of  the  intellectual  and  the  moral.  As 
seen  in  the  palpable  world,  indeed,  they  are  but  the 
types  of  a higher  excellence  in  the  immaterial.  A 
thousand  various  forms  do  they  assume  in  the  sphere 
of  sentiment  and  of  passion,  of  natural  affection  and 
of  moral  feeling,  of  merely  secular  action  and  of  reli- 
gious achievement ; but  nowhere  are  they  more  touch- 
ingly bodied  forth  than  in  the  eventful  annals  of  the 
missionary  enterprise.  Nay,  it  were  no  exaggeration 
to  say,  that  here  may  be  found  their  most  perfect  de- 
velopment. Just  here  would  I look  for  specimens  of 
whatever  is  most  graceful  in  emotion,  most  startling 
and  even  romantic  in  adventure,  most  lofty  and  im- 
posing in  aim  and  action.  To  the  broad  missionary 
field  would  I resort  for  themes  that  most  effectually 
stir  the  poet’s  soul,  or  for  attitudes  and  scenes  most 
worthy  of  the  painter’s  pencil.  I would  point  to 
Henry  Martyn,  casting  the  last  look  on  the  white 
cliffs  of  England,  or  sitting  alone,  as  death  drew  near, 
in  the  orchard  at  Tocat,  and  thinking  of  his  God,  “ in 
solitude  his  company,  his  friend,  and  his  comforter.” 
Harriet  Newell  would  rise  to  my  view,  receiving  the 
parting  kiss  of  her  widowed  mother,  and  bidding  fare- 


10 


well  to  the  liome  of  lier  childhood.  I should  gaze 
again  on  that  secluded  spot  in  the  quiet  valley  of  Wil- 
liamstown,  where  a few  pious  young  men,  amid  their 
deep  self-scrutiny,  and  falling  tears,  and  solemn  vows, 
laid  the  corner-stone  of  our  great  missionary  enter- 
prise. To  that  first  ordination  of  American  missiona- 
ries in  the  old  Tabernacle  Church  would  I turn,  to  the 
kneeling  forms  of  the  pioneer  band,  and  to  the  vener- 
able men  — the  sainted  Worcester  and  his  compeers  — 
gathered  around  them  for  “the  laying  on  of  hands.” 
Again  would  the  brig  Caravan,  with  her  precious 
freight,  float  slowly  forth  from  Salem  harbor,  while 
on  the  strange  spectacle  many  gaze  with  moistened 
eyes  and  heaving  bosoms.  By  that  missionary  grave 
would  I stand  on  the  Isle  of  France,  or  by  that  other 
grave  beneath  the  Hopia  tree,  and  think  of  the  sleep- 
ers below,  as  once  they  walked  together  on  the  banks 
of  the  Merrimack,  and  talked  of  the  Saviour  whom 
they  loved  and  would  serve  unto  death.  To  the 
death-prison  at  Ava  would  I turn,  to  the  blood-stain- 
ed footsteps  of  the  devoted  Judson,  and  to  the  loath- 
some cell  at  Oung-pen-lay,  — to  mark  not  merely  the 
patience  in  suffering  and  the  holy  steadfastness  of  the 
man  of  God,  but  to  note  also,  and  with  still  higher 
admiration,  the  martyr-like  heroism  of  his  noble  wife. 
A loftier  name  than  hers,  where  shall  we  find  in  all 
the  glorious  “ Records  of  Woman?” 

If  from  the  history  of  missions,  crowded  with  in- 
stances like  these,  we  turn  to  what  may  be  called  its 
literature  — to  that  portion  of  it  especially  which  is 


11 


gepnain  to  tlie  point  in  hand  — how  thickly  set  do 
we  find  it  with  gems  of  purest  lustre.  Among  all 
the  lyrics  of  earth,  how  few  will  hear  comparison,  in 
respect  as  well  of  beauty  as  of  true  sublimity,  with 
the  oft  repeated  hymn  of  Heber  ! For  delicacy  of 
sentiment,  and  for  depth  of  pathos,  what  production 
of  the  sort  in  the  whole  range  of  our  literature,  can 
claim  precedence  of  that  letter  which  announced  to 
the  mother  of  Harriet  Newell  the  death  of  her  daugh- 
ter ? I do  not  marvel  that  a beloved  laborer  in  the 
foreign  field,  now  with  us  for  a season,  refers  to  the 
perusal  of  it  as  the  proximate  cause  — operating,  in- 
deed, on  a heart  already  imbued  with  love  to  Christ — 
of  his  devoting  himself  to  the  missionary  work.  Were 
I asked  to  indicate,  among  all  the  treasures  of  English 
poesy,  that  one  piece,  which  in  the  mingling  of  the 
sweetest  and  most  touching  of  the  natural  affections 
with  the  loftiest  exercises  of  the  religious  sentiment, 
stands  without  a rival,  I know  not  what  I would 
sooner  name  than  those  well-known  lines  of  Mrs. 
Judson  to  her  husband. 

To  particular  death-scenes  we  have  already  allud- 
ed : how  replete  with  aesthetic  power  is  the  whole 
missionary  martyrology ! In  strains  at  once  of  classic 
beauty,  and  of  womanly  tenderness,  has  Mrs.  Hermans 
sung  of  the  perished  warriors  of  her  native  land : — 

“ Wave  may  not  foam,  nor  wild  wind  sweep, 

Where  sleeps  not  England’s  dead.” 

In  like  strains,  though  with  more  thrilling  import,  we 


12 


might  celebrate  the  dead  of  the  sacramental  host. 
Their  requiem  comes  to  us  on  every  breeze.  There 
is  hardly  a land  under  heaven  but  is  hallowed  by 
their  dust ; there  is  scarce  an  ocean  in  whose  depths 
their  bones  are  not  reposing.  In  the  green  isles  of 
the  Pacific  they  sleep,  and  amid  the  spicy  groves  of 
Ceylon  and  Sumatra.  In  “the  land  of  Sinim”  they 
lie  — beneath  the  waves  that  wash  its  coast  — and 
amid  the  palm-trees  and  pagodas  of  India.  On  the 
shores  of  “ the  great  and  wide  sea,”  and  in  the  Holy 
City,  are  their  sepulchres ; in  ancient  Pontus,  and  be- 
neath the  shadow  of  old  Argoeus.  In  the  beautiful 
plain  of  Oroomiah  they  slumber,  and  among  the 
mosques  and  minarets  of  the  Ottoman  metropolis. 
On  the  western  coast  of  benighted  Africa  they  rest, 
and  amid  the  forests  and  kraals  of  its  southern  bor- 
ders. By  the  Father  of  Waters,  on  our  own  conti- 
nent, and  “ where  rolls  the  Oregon,”  are  their  graves  ; 
and  in  more  dreary  regions,  amid  “ Greenland’s  icy 
mountains.”  Yet  there  have  not  been  lacking  those 
who  were  ready  to  be  “ baptized  for  the  dead  ; ” and 
onward  still  the  missionary  host  have  pressed,  stayed 
by  no  obstacle,  daunted  by  no  danger.  Nor  shall 
they  pause  in  their  glorious  career,  till 


“ One  song  employs  all  nations.” 


These  and  other  like  aspects  of  beauty  and  of 
moral  dignity,  we  would  by  no  means  overlook.  In 
our  missionary  fabric  we  rejoice  to  recognize  not  only 


13 


the  broad  ami  deep  foundations,  but  the  garniture  of 
all  manner  of  precious  stones  — not  the  massive  and 
imposing  shaft  alone,  but  the  curiously  chiselled  and 
graceful  capital.  We  would  omit,  in  dealing  with 
man’s  complex  nature,  not  a single  legitimate  element 
of  persuasion.  Yet  in  urging  to  spiritual  achieve- 
ments we  must  beware  of  unduly  exalting  merely 
natural  incentives.  A broad  distinction  is  there  be- 
tween the  thrills  and  flights  of  sentiment,  and  the 
martyr-spirit.  Not  the  first  was  Chalmers  to  discover 
“ the  slender  influence  of  taste  and  sensibility  in  mat- 
ters of  religion.”  Ever  since  the  missionary  enterprise 
began,  and  especially  since  it  has  gained  a certain 
popularity,  it  has  been  no  strange  thing  for  men  to 
melt  into  tenderness,  or  to  soar  into  the  loftier  moods 
of  thought,  as  its  history  and  claims  have  been  un- 
folded, and  yet  to  turn  at  last  from  the  appeal  appa- 
rently so  effective,  to  tread  as  callously  as  ever  the  old 
path  of  niggardliness  and  self-indulgence. 

3.  It  may  seem  strange  if  we  add  here  — and  yet 
there  is  reason  for  adding  — that  we  can  base  no  ef- 
fectual appeal  on  the  ground  of  our  own  advantage. 
The  principle  of  self-love,  as  held  in  the  grasp  of  a 
strict  and  sharp  definition,  as  properly  limited  and 
subordinated,  we  would  not  wholly  discard.  Never 
perhaps  has  it  safer  and  wider  scope,  than  as  recogniz- 
ing the  reflex  influence  of  the  missionary  movement. 
No  little  benefit  of  a temporal  sort  has  that  movement 
conferred.  How  greatly  indebted  to  the  research  it 
has  required,  are  science  and  literature.  What  discov- 


14 


eries  have  been  made  in  the  department  of  language. 
Nay,  of  what  creations  can  we  speak.  From  many  a 
chaos  of  rude  and  unsystematized  speech,  have  order, 
and  symmetry,  and  beauty  been  evoked.  How  have  the 
subtle  affinities  of  language  been  detected.  And  what 
light  has  been  shed  thus  and  otherwise,  on  the  broad 
field  — now  assuming  such  interest  in  the  view  of  the 
learned  — of  ethnological  inquiry.  How  many  points 
of  geography,  of  statistical  science,  and  of  general  his- 
tory, have  been  elucidated.  On  many  a topic  of  this 
sort,  our  missionary  publications  are  already  regarded 
as  among  the  most  valuable  authorities.  Some  of  our 
missionaries,  indeed,  may  in  some  important  depart- 
ments of  learning,  be  justly  ranked  with  the  best 
scholars  of  the  age.  Not  that  they  have  aimed  at 
such  distinction; — they  have  sought  first  “ the  king- 
dom of  God  and  the  righteousness  thereof,”  and  all 
these  things  have  been  added  unto  them.  By  mis- 
sionary successes  commerce  has  been  benefited,  and 
as  inseparable  from  it,  the  arts  and  agriculture.  "When 
as  the  result  of  Christianization,  a nation  of  nude  sav- 
ages, sleeping  in  miserable  huts,  are  to  be  civilized 
from  head  to  foot  and  in  all  the  appliances  and  walks 
of  life,  no  small  demand  is  made  on  the  industrial 
world.  That  world  is  benefited,  too,  as  in  many  ways 
intercommunication  is  promoted.  Apart  from  spiritual 
religion,  moreover,  there  is,  as  every  thoughtful  man 
must  admit,  a restraint  upon  the  working  of  a sordid 
utilitarianism,  an  enlarging  influence  upon  the  common 
mind,  in  holding  up  before  it  continually  a noble 


15 


world-wide  charity.  Many  a man  who  is  full  of  preju- 
dice against  the  cause  we  plead,  is  after  all  somewhat 
less  of  an  earth-worm,  for  the  indirect  hearing  upon 
his  character  of  that  very  cause.  Taking  into  view 
only  temporal  advantage,  it  cannot  he  doubted,  that 
our  own  land  is  under  great  obligation  to  the  mis- 
sionary enterprise.  Were  there  no  eternity,  we  should 
as  a nation  and  as  individuals  sustain  great  loss  were 
that  enterprise  blotted  out. 

We  need  not  hesitate  to  declare,  then,  that  in  this 
relation  as  well  as  others,  godliness  hath  the  “ promise 
of  the  life  that  now  is.”  We  may  countervail  objec- 
tions thus,  and  honor  at  once  God’s  word  and  provi- 
dence. Yet  we  greatly  err,  if  we  regard  motives  of 
this  sort  as  of  chief  importance.  The  true  missionary 
spirit  hath  far  deeper  foundations.  It  abases  self  — it 
goes  out  of  self.  Even  that  most  elevated  sort  of  re- 
flex influence,  the  tendency  of  missionary  effort  to  ad- 
vance our  own  piety  — a tendency  not  to  be  over- 
looked by  those  who  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteous- 
ness — may  yet  be  so  regarded  as  to  minister  in  our 
hearts  to  a specious  sort  of  refined  selfishness. 

4.  As  truly  ineffectual,  we  remark  further,  will  be 
found  the  mere  promptings  of  conscience.  We  speak 
of  this  faculty  not  in  the  broadest  view,  as  embracing 
the  whole  religious  nature,  but  in  a narrower  aspect,  as 
distinguished  from  the  heart.  Appeals  to  it  must  be 
made,  and  effective  they  will  be,  if  there  lie  back  of  it 
deep  spiritual  experiences  and  sympathies  — if  the 
whole  renovated  soul  has  joyfully  accepted  its  teaching 


16 


and  its  sway.  But  quite  impotent  is  it,  if  the  tone  of 
the  affections  be  earthly.  Distinctively  apprehended,  it 
is  not  the  religious  sense  — it  has  no  lively  susceptibi- 
lity to  the  lofty  peculiarities  of  Christianity.  To  some 
forms  of  duty  it  may  address  itself,  but  not  to  the 
highest.  Or  if  it  essay  these  at  all,  it  is  as  with  palsied 
or  manacled  hand.  It  may  preach,  but  it  is  coldly  ; it 
may  give,  but  it  is  sparingly.  Amid  the  shadows  of 
selfishness,  it  is  easily  imposed  on  by  the  flimsiest  sub- 
terfuges. It  is  apt  to  determine  duty  by  some  false 
measure,  instead  of  weighing  it  in  the  balance  of  the 
sanctuary.  Do  what  it  may,  it  is  slavish,  heartless 
doing,  as  joyless  as  it  is  unavailing.  Do  what  it  may, 
it  has  no  voice  of  prayer  to  call  to  its  aid  the  arm  of 
Omnipotence.  Who  has  not  noted  the  fruitlessness  of 
all  appeals  to  the  conscience  of  the  church,  whether  in 
regard  to  sinners  here,  or  to  the  lost  in  heathendom, 
while  upon  the  heart  there  has  rested  the  paralysis  of 
worldliness.  Heart- wise,  if  at  all,  the  car  of  salvation 
is  to  be  moved  onward. 

5.  Xor,  finally,  is  the  world  to  be  converted  by  the 
mere  principle  of  association.  Quite  accordant  is  it 
with  the  genius  of  Christianity,  that  for  all  good  pur- 
poses men  should  be  brought  to  act  in  concert.  And 
great  power,  with  the  needful  prerequisites,  1ms  this 
mode  of  action.  There  is  no  little  force  in  the  law  of 
sympathy,  as  thus  called  into  exercise.  Broad  and 
deep  is  the  tide  of  feeling  formed  by  the  confluence  of 
many  rills.  In  associated  effort,  there  is  economy  of 
strength,  and  concentration  of  strength.  The  indi- 


17 


vidua!  atom  lias  in  it  but  the  attraction  of  cohesion, 
binding  to  itself  some  other  atom  ; the  vast  aggregate 
of  particles  holds  to  itself  some  other  world.  It  is  one 
of  the  happiest  auspices  of  the  present  age,  that  com- 
bined action  is  so  largely  employed  for  the  advance- 
ment of  Christianity.  Beautiful  crystallizations  of 
charity  have  risen  before  us,  all  lustrous  with  the  rays 
of  the  sun  of  righteousness.  Curious  pieces  of  moral 
machinery  have  been  constructed,  the  like  of  which 
for  perfectness  of  design  and  execution,  the  world  has 
never  before  seen.  Yet  in  this  very  perfectness,  let  it 
be  remembered,  there  lurks  a danger.  Very  liable  are 
we  to  forget,  that  this  machinery  is  not  self-acting — 
that  “the  spirit  of  the  living  creature”  must  be  in  the 
wheels.  In  our  various  forms  of  association  we  are  apt 
to  merge  disastrously  our  proper  individuality.  We 
lose  sight,  too  often,  of  our  personal  responsibility. 
By  no  agglomeration  of  dead  particles,  can  you  pro- 
duce a living  organism.  By  no  enlargement  or  im- 
provement of  machinery,  can  you  accomplish  any 
thing  if  the  motive  power  be  lacking.  Multiply  as 
you  please  forms  of  benevolent  co-operation,  you  make 
real  progress  in  the  world’s  conversion  only  as  in  each 
Christian  heart  is  found  the  ever  effective  principle  of 
vital  godliness. 

II.  Having  glanced  thus  at  the  negative  aspect  of 
our  subject,  let  us  turn  now  to  the  positive.  Nothing 
short  of  deep  personal  piety  we  have  seen  will  avail ; 
we  proceed  to  show  how  necessarily  efficacious  that 
must  be — how  out  of  its  deep  fountains  in  the  heart, 

2 


18 


as  naturally  as  water  guslies  from  the  mountain  spring, 
flows  out  to  a lost  world  the  tide  of  benevolence. 
Many,  indeed,  are  the  connections  and  correspondences 
of  the  world  without  with  the  world  within.  Man  has 
been  well  called  a microcosm.  As  an  old  poet  quaintly 
expresses  it, 


“ Thy  mind 

Europe  supplies,  and  Asia  thy  will, 

And  Afric  thine  affections  ; and  if  still 
Thou  list  to  travel  further,  put  thy  senses 
For  both  the  Indies.” 


Little  will  he  do  for  the  outer  world’s  subjugation 
to  God,  who  has  not  first  subjugated  the  inner  world. 
That  achieved,  he  is  not  only  irresistibly  prompted  to 
all  evangelism,  but  he  has  the  indispensable  and  most 
fundamental  preparation  for  it.  In  illustration  of  this 
view,  let  us  advert  now  to  the  chief  elements  of  all 
true  piety. 

1.  First  among  these  I mention  the  spirit  of  con- 
trition, Very  prominent  is  this  grace,  not  only  in  the 
Psalm  from  which  our  text  is  taken,  but  in  all  Christian 
experience.  The  renewed  man,  enlightened  to  behold 
the  beauty  of  the  divine  law,  perceives  in  affecting 
contrast,  the  hatefulness  of  sin.  lie  had  heard  of  it 
before  “ by  the  hearing  of  the  ear,”  but  now  his  eye 
seetli  it,  and  he  abhors  himself.  Never,  indeed,  is  sin 
seen  as  it  is,  till  we  see  it  in  ourselves.  In  the  heart 
are  its  chief  evils,  and  we  cannot  inspect  the  hearts  of 
our  fellow  men.  It  is  only  as  Ave  go  down  into  the 


19 


“chambers  of  imagery”  in  our  own  bosoms,  and  mark 
the  defilements  and  abominations  there,  that  we  have 
any  adequate  apprehension  of  what  sin  hath  done  in 
others.  Loathing  it  as  revealed  in  our  own  conscious- 
ness,— sighing  for  deliverance  from  it,  we  are  prepared 
and  constrained  to  pray  for  other  sinners.  lie  only 
who  has  lain  himself,  day  after  day,  on  a bed  of  rack- 
ing pain,  weary  of  tossings  to  and  fro,  has  learned  duly 
to  sympathize  with  a like  sufferer.  None  can  enter  into 
the  case  of  the  imperilled  mariner  like  the  man,  who 
has  himself  felt,  on  the  vessel’s  deck,  amid  rocks  and 
quicksands,  the  pelting  of  the  sleet-laden  blast.  So  in 
the  matter  of  the  soul’s  maladies  and  perils,  there  is 
nothing  like  experience  to  beget  compassion.  How 
natural  is  that  outburst  of  holy  feeling,  which  follows 
Cowper’s  allegorical  description  of  his  own  conver- 
sion : — 


“ I see  that  all  are  wanderers,  gone  astray, 

Each  in  his  own  delusion.” 

What  affecting  views  of  the  condition  of  the  unre- 
newed are  commonly  taken,  by  those  who  have  just 
emerged  themselves  from  the  pollutions  and  glooms  of 
unregeneracy.  The  history  of  all  revivals  shows,  that 
whenever  the  people  of  God  are  brought  to  see  with 
increased  clearness,  and  to  mourn  with  unwonted  grief, 
their  own  remaining  corruption,  then,  as  by  an  inevi- 
table sequence,  “ rivers  of  waters  run  down  their  eyes  ” 
because  the  wicked  around  them  keep  not  God’s  law. 


20 


Nor  does  tlie  feeling  thus  awakened,  confine  itself  to 
Christian  lands.  As  sin  in  their  own  case  is  the  chief 
of  all  calamities  and  burdens — hateful  not  only  in  view 
of  its  consequences,  but  in  its  own  nature — so  is  it,  in 
their  apprehension,  with  all  the  tribes  and  nations  of 
the  unevangelized.  As  they  long  for  the  deliverance 
of  their  own  souls  from  “ the  body  of  this  death,”  so 
do  they  long  and  pray  for  the  deliverance  of  the  whole 
world.  The  primary  element  of  a true  missionary 
spirit,  we  hold,  is  brokenness  of  heart. 

2.  Next  in  order  comes  a CJirist-exalting  spirit. 
The  renewed  heart  magnifies  Christ  as  its  own  glorious 
portion.  All  else  is  felt  to  be  but  “ vanity  and  vexation 
of  spirit.”  “ It  hath  pleased  the  Father  that  in  him 
should  all  fulness  dwell.”  In  him  is  all  help ; he  is  a 
fitting  and  satisfying  object  of  the  soul’s  affections. 
“ He  that  cometh  to  me,”  he  says,  “ shall  never  hunger, 
and  he  that  believeth  in  me,  shall  never  thirst.” 
Quaffing  full  draughts  from  the  gushing  fountain,  the 
believer  would  beckon  to  it  the  weary  and  fainting 
travellers  on  all  the  desert.  His  language  is, 

“ Oh  ! for  a trumpet  voice, 

On  all  the  world  to  call, 

To  bid  their  hearts  rejoice 
In  him  who  died  for  all.” 

The  Saviour,  he  feels  too,  is,  in  his  own  excellency, 
and  in  the  glory  of  his  work,  worthy  to  be  exalted. 
His  name  is  “ Wonderful,  Counsellor,  the  Mighty  God, 


21 


the  Everlasting  Father.”  By  him  were  earth’s  founda- 
tion’s laid.  It  was  over  his  work  “ the  morning  stars 
sang  together.”  In  his  incarnation  “the  whole  Deity 
is  known.”  “ God,  who  commanded  the  light  to  shine 
out  of  darkness,”  says  Paul,  “ hath  shined  in  our  hearts, 
to  give  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God 
in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ.”  In  view  of  the  depth  of 
his  voluntary  humiliation,  the  ineffable  beauty  of  his 
earthly  example,  the  matchless  love  that  bore  him 
through  the  garden  to  the  cross,  the  might  and  the 
majesty  with  which  he  vanquished  death,  and  ascended 
on  high  “ leading  captivity  captive,”  the  wisdom  and 
benignity  with  which  he  wields  now  the  sceptre  of 
universal  dominion,  how  is  all  finite  excellency  dispa- 
raged and  forgotten ; how  worthy  does  he  seem  of 
“the  heathen  for  his  inheritance,  and  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  earth  for  his  possession.”  In  his  own 
body,  would  the  true  disciple  magnify  him,  “ whether 
it  be  by  life  or  by  death,”  and  earnestly  does  he  desire 
his  promised  exaltation  in  the  hearts  of  all  men.  He 
would  publish  his  glory.  He  would  speed  the  flight  of 
the  angel  who  proclaims  it.  Day  by  day,  from  his  full 
heart  he  cries, 

“ Come,  then,  and  added  to  thy  many  crowns, 

Keceive  yet  one,  the  crown  of  all  the  earth, 

Thou  who  alone  art  worthy.” 


2.  With  all  this,  I remark  further,  is  intimately 
connected,  in  a true  Christian  experience,  the  spirit  of 


22 


self-consecration.  This  obviously  pervades  both  the 
text  and  the  context ; and  much  more  may  we  look 
for  it  in  relation  to  the  fully  manifested  Messiah.  It 
is  an  unspeakable  privilege,  the  believer  feels,  to  live 
for  one  so  glorious.  Nay,  to  live  unto  him,  is,  in  its 
principles,  its  aims,  its  sympathies,  and  its  achieve- 
ments, the  only  true  life.  All  else  is  but  a living 
death.  Thus,  moreover,  is  he  bound  to  live,  and  that 
by  the  strongest  as  well  as  the  most  precious  bonds. 
He  is  not  his  own.  He  is  “ bought  with  a price  ” — 
“ not  with  corruptible  things,  as  silver  and  gold,  but 
with  the  precious  blood  of  Christ.”  To  the  advance- 
ment of  the  Saviour’s  cause,  he  deeply  and  joyfully 
feels,  his  powers  should  be  all  devoted.  He  imitates 
the  example  of  those  Corinthian  believers,  of  whom 
Paul  testifies,  “ They  first  gave  themselves  to  the  Lord, 
and  unto  us  by  the  will  of  God.”  He  makes  no  re- 
serve. Why  should  he  ? Can  he  withhold  aught  from 
him  who  “ spared  not  his  own  Son,”  or  from  him  who 
refused  not  to  give  himself  for  us  ? As  in  his  person 
he  is  the  Lord’s,  so  is  he  in  his  possessions.  A searching 
inquiry  was  that  of  a beloved  missionary  lately,  “ Did 
you  see  to  it,  when  you  yourselves  were  translated  into 
the  kingdom  of  God’s  dear  Son,  that  your  property 
was  translated  also  ?”  Nor  is  the  truly  consecrated 
soul  disposed  to  limit  the  field  of  effort.  That  field, 
he  rejoices  to  know,  is  the  world.  Wherever  sin, 
Christ’s  foe,  may  be  extirpated,  wherever  Christ’s  glory 
may  be  made  known,  thither  is  he  ready,  if  Christ  call 


23 


him,  to  go,  or  if  that  may  not  he,  to  aid  by  his  sub- 
stance in  sending  other  laborers. 

4.  As  a crowning  element,  at  once  of  true  piety 
and  of  the  missionary  spirit,  I subjoin  confidence  in 
God.  For  the  self-denial  and  hardness  inseparable 
from  the  Christian  warfare,  there  is  important  prepa- 
ration in  the  principles  already  named.  Little  will  he 
think  of  privations  and  sacrifices,  who  has  a due  sense 
of  the  evil  to  be  overcome,  and  whose  heart  is  all 
aglow  with  love  for  Christ,  and  with  zeal  for  his  glory. 
Yet  in  all  his  course  what  formidable  obstacles  does  he 
meet,  and  what  desponding  if  not  despairing  thoughts 
do  they  often  suggest.  In  his  private  conflicts,  he  has 
sympathy  often  with  him  who  said,  “ I shall  one  day 
perish  by  the  hand  of  Saul.'’  As  he  sets  himself  to 
the  work  of  the  world’s  conversion,  what  gigantic- 
forms  of  depravity  rise  up  before  him  — what  towering 
and  overshadowing  fabrics  of  error,  what  mounds,  and 
ramparts,  and  battlements  of  superstition.  It  is  only 
by  that  superadded  yet  homogeneous  grace  to  which 
we  now  point,  that  through  all,  and  over  all,  he  will 
be  borne  onward. 

In  regard  to  the  world’s  renovation,  I know,  much 
account  has  been  made  — far  too  much  doubtless  — of 
merely  natural  forces.  Men  have  descanted  on  human 
progress  as  if  there  were  some  other  progress  in  God’s 
kingdom  than  that  of  regenerating  grace.  They  have 
talked  of  the  law  of  development,  as  if  it  were  possible 
out  of  pure  darkness  to  evolve  light.  They  have  en- 
larged on  the  diffusion  of  knowledge,  and  the  improve- 


24 


ment  of  social  and  political  institutions,  as  if  the  rays 
of  the  sun  could  change  the  nature  of  the  granite  they 
fall  on,  or  as  if  the  hue  and  fashion  of  the  habiliments 
worn,  or  of  the  dwelling  occupied,  could  steal  from  the 
frame  a mortal  malady.  As  they  have  diligently 
shaken  the  kaleidoscope  of  their  fancy,  they  have  been 
confidently  looking  to  see  the  bits  of  glass  in  it  endued 
with  life,  or  assuming  some  other  than  a most  illusory 
beauty.  Even  good  Christian  men,  in  giving  a reason 
of  the  hope  that  is  in  them  for  our  fallen  humanity, 
have  made  quite  too  prominent  certain  superficial 
changes.  Give  men  knowledge  like  that  of  fiends,  and 
they  may  still  be  as  malignant.  Bring  the  whole  race 
into  the  most  intimate  intercommunion,  and  it  may  be, 
in  the  enkindling  of  evil  passions,  but  as  the  more  ve- 
hement glow  of  gathered  coals  of  fire.  Helps  to  the 
progress  of  religion  may  indeed  be  found  — as  well  as 
results  of  that  progress  — in  the  changed  and  changing 
state  of  the  world.  Channels  may  be  opened ; high- 
ways may  be  cast  up;  vehicles  may  be  furnished. 
But  as  to  the  regenerating  work,  “ Not  by  might,  nor 
by  power,  but  by  my  Spirit  saitli  the  Lord  of  hosts.” 
The  only  good  hope  in  this  regard,  is  that  which  finds 
no  resting  place  short  of  the  throne  of  Jehovah. 

Now  to  just  this  buoyant  animating  hope  is  the 
true  Christian  led  by  his  own  private  experience. 
Whatever  obstacles  present  themselves  in  the  sin- 
stricken  world  without,  difficulties  quite  as  formida- 
ble has  he  met  in  the  world  within.  What  divine 
grace  and  might  have  done  in  the  one,  warrants  the 


25 


largest  expectation  in  regard  to  the  other.  If  God 
has  changed  to  flesh  my  own  stony  heart,  for  what 
heart  may  I not  have  hope  ? If  he  has  cast  down  the 
altars  reared  in  my  own  bosom  to  a thousand  idols, 
what  to  his  arm  is  the  multitude  of  pagan  fanes  ? If 
the  darkness  of  my  own  soul  has  been  dispelled  — the 
more  fearful  for  its  contrast  with  the  light  around 
me  — is  there  not  hope  even  for  the  midnight  of  hea- 
thenism ? Nor  is  the  believer  encouraged  merely  by 
what  God  has  done.  In  the  same  simple  faith,  with 
which  for  himself  he  cleaves  to  the  divine  promise,  he 
rests  on  that  same  promise  as  he  labors  for  the  world. 
The  millennial  day  shall  dawn — its  noontide  shall  come 
— because  God  hath  said  it.  All  other  assurances  are 
to  him  comparatively  as  the  idle  wind.  It  is  this 
which  gives  wings  to  prayer.  It  is  this  which  encour- 
ages him  to  contribute  of  his  treasures,  or  to  go  him- 
self to  the  broad  harvest-field.  It  is  this  which  ani- 
mates the  missionary’s  heart,  as  amid  the  dark  places 
of  the  earth  he  struggles  with  brutal  degradation, 
with  hoary  prejudice,  with  cruel  and  relentless  super- 
stition. “ Who  art  thou,  O great  mountain  ? ” he 
exclaims,  “ before  Zerubbabel  thou  shalt  become  a 
plain.” 

We  might  advert,  in  the  same  connection,  to  other 
points  of  Christian  experience.  But  those  we  have 
mentioned  are  not  only  fundamental  and  distinctive ; 
in  their  necessary  adjuncts  and  issues,  they  embrace 
whatever  is  pure  and  elevated  in  “ the  hidden  man  of 
the  heart.”  Enough  has  been  said  to  show,  that  while 


26 


all  other  reliances  must  prove  abortive,  deep  personal 
piety  is  the  unfailing  spring  of  all  vise  and  holy  evan- 
gelism— that  heartfelt  piety,  indeed,  and  the  true 
missionary  spirit,  are  one  and  indivisible.  We  shall 
be  further  borne  with,  as  we  subjoin  briefly  certain 
practical  suggestions. 

1.  It  first  of  all  occurs  to  us,  that  we  have,  in  our 
subject,  a searching  test  of  Christian  character.  We 
may  ask,  on  the  one  hand,  whether  with  some  show  of 
the  missionary  spirit,  we  have  its  invaluable  counter- 
part, the  diligent  keeping  of  our  own  hearts  ? It  is 
quite  possible  to  ride  in  the  chariot  of  Jehu,  yet  know 
little  or  nothing  of  the  tearful  vigils  of  David.  True 
religion  is  ever  symmetrical.  But  what,  on  the  other 
hand,  must  we  think  of  those  — or,  as  it  may  be  bet- 
ter shaped,  what  should  they  think  of  themselves  — 
who,  while  they  profess  to  be  spiritually  minded,  take 
little  interest  in  missionary  matters  ? We  cast  no 
reflection  on  the  men  of  another  and  a different  age. 
The  times  of  that  ignorance  “ God  winked  at.”  There 
were  extrinsic  causes  at  work  then,  to  hinder  some- 
what the  normal  development  of  piety.  It  is  of  the 
present  day  we  are  speaking,  and  of  persons  more  or 
less  enlightened  as  to  the  subject  in  hand.  If  at  the 
monthly  concert  their  places  are  either  constantly  or 
frequently  vacant  — if  the  slightest  excuse  is  sufficient 
to  keep  them  away ; if  their  gifts  to  the  Lord’s  trea- 
sury are  few  and  far  between,  or,  though  frequently 
and  regularly  made,  are  yet  doled  out  as  from  the 
miser’s  reluctant  grasp ; if  every  point  of  personal 


and  domestic  convenience  and  gratification  is  first 
amply  provided  for,  and  only  the  mere  leavings  of 
luxury,  the  offerings  which  in  a sense  cost  them  no- 
thing, are  laid  on  God’s  altar ; if  they  are  only  arous- 
ed to  some  spasm  of  zeal,  as  something  new  and  start- 
ling presents  itself,  as  they  listen  to  some  strain  of 
sentiment  or  of  romance,  as  some  tale  of  horror  is 
uttered,  or  as  the  galvanic  force  of  a unique  and  im- 
passioned eloquence  is  brought  to  bear  on  them  ; how 
large  must  be  that  charity  which  can  refrain  from 
standing  in  doubt  of  them  ? Can  they  loathe  sin  in 
themselves,  and  yet  not  loathe  it  in  the  -world  ? Can 
they  truly  exalt  Christ  in  their  own  hearts,  and  yet 
not  fervently  desire  that  all  others  should  exalt  him  ? 
Can  they  consecrate  themselves  and  all  they  have  to 
him,  and  yet  withhold  from  that  cause  with  which 
his  glory  is  so  intimately  connected,  either  their 
prayers  or  then'  alms,  either  themselves  or  their  chil- 
dren ? Can  they  confide  in  Christ  for  the  salvation  of 
their  own  souls,  and  yet  be  paralyzed  by  doubt  and 
distrust  in  regard  to  the  world's  salvation  ? Ponder 
well  these  queries,  ye  wrho  stand  coldly  aloof  from  the 
missionary  enterprise,  or  who  serve  it  with  but  a faint 
and  intermittent  zeal. 

2.  We  see,  I remark  secondly,  why  the  missionary 
worlc  has  made  no  greater  progress.  We  overlook  not 
what  has  been  accomplished.  We  rejoice  in  it,  and 
give  thanks  to  God.  Yet  how  much  land  remaineth 
to  be  possessed ; how  much,  after  all,  has  been  left 
undone  — how  little,  compared  with  the  exigencies  of 


28 


tlie  case,  are  we  now  doing  ! The  fault  is  not,  we  may 
be  sure,  in  the  heart  of  him  who  gave  his  Son  to  lay 
the  foundations  of  our  enterprise,  or  of  him  who  ce- 
mented those  foundations  with  his  own  blood.  Nor 
lies  the  difficulty  in  the  lack  of  pecuniary  means. 
There  is  money  enough  in  the  keeping  even  of  the 
Churches  represented  in  this  Association,  held  by 
them  as  the  sworn  stewards  of  God  — money  which 
might  be  better  spared  than  retained,  the  sparing  of 
which  would  be  a gain  both  for  time  and  eternity  — 
to  put  the  Parent  Society  beyond  the  possibility  of 
financial  perplexity.  It  were  easy  for  the  churches  of 
our  land  at  once  to  double  its  income.  Nor  need 
there  be  a want  of  laborers.  Men  enough  there  are 
— a superabundance  of  them  — for  all  the  paths  and 
enterprises  of  worldly  ambition.  Nor  do  we  lack  evi- 
dence, as  we  have  seen,  of  the  palpable  woes  inflicted 
by  heathenism.  Nor  are  appeals  wanting  to  the 
imaginative  faculty,  to  taste  and  sensibility,  and  to  our 
quick  perception  of  reflex  advantage.  Nor  fail  the 
Providence  of  God,  and  the  Christian  press,  and  the 
Gospel  ministry,  to  clamor  incessantly  in  the  ear  of 
Conscience.  Nor  has  the  defect  been  in  the  matter 
of  machinery.  Machinery  enough  is  already  in  play 
to  irrigate  effectively  every  desert  under  heaven.  It 
is  the  motive  power  that  has  been  wanting  — deep, 
all-pervading,  personal  piety,  — the  power  that  not 
only  stirs  man  to  effort,  but,  through  the  channel  of 
prayer,  moves  the  arm  of  God.  Not  with  associations, 
as  such,  has  been  the  chief  fault,  or  with  aught  out- 


29 


ward  and  objective,  but  with  individual  hearts.  Each 
one  of  us,  my  brethren,  in  his  place  and  his  measure, 
may  take  home  the  guilt  and  the  shame  to  his  own 
bosom. 

3.  We  learn,  then,  I remark  once  more,  at  what , as 
friends  of  the  missionary  cause , we  shcmld prominently 
aim.  It  is  the  increase  of  personal  godliness.  This,  as 
we  have  seen,  is  the  only  hope  of  our  great  enterprise ; 
and  on  this  the  whole  history  of  the  past  seems  now  to 
cast  us.  Other  motives  there  are  — lawful  if  subordi- 
nate— which  appear  in  a measure  to  have  spent  their 
force.  To  the  miseries  and  the  horrors  of  paganism  — 
to  infanticide  and  cannibalism,  to  self-torture  and  self- 
immolation,  to  the  offering  up  of  human  victims,  to  all 
cruel  and  abominable  usages  and  rites  — our  thoughts 
have  become  accustomed.  Little  of  novelty,  indeed, 
has  the  cause  of  missions  now  to  offer.  All  New-Eng- 
land  was  moved  once  — not  to  say  our  whole  coun- 
try — at  the  ordination  of  five  young  men  to  the  work 
of  the  ministry  in  heathen  lands.  Now,  a like  ordi- 
uation,  with  all  the  consequent  scenes  of  parting  and 
embarkation,  is  as  an  every-day  occurrence.  Once  a 
returned  missionary  was  to  the  churches  almost  as  an 
Apostle  come  back  from  glory.  Now  the  faces  of 
scores  of  them  are  well  known  to  us,  and  their  most 
startling  tales  of  peril  and  of  suffering  have  become 
familiar  to  our  ears  as  household  words.  As,  when 
the  beautiful  vale,  or  the  cloud-capped  mountain,  is 
made  our  abiding  place,  we  soon  grow  heedless  com- 


30 


paratively  of  wliat  once  delighted  or  awed  us ; so  is  it, 
to  some  extent,  with  the  whole  aesthetic  element  of  the 
missionary  enterprise.  We  have  become  ingenious,  too, 
it  is  to  be  feared,  in  quieting  our  consciences.  And 
even  on  those  benevolent  organizations  which  seemed 
once  as  the  sun  for  brightness,  by  keen-sighted  gazers 
spots  have  been  discovered ! How  obvious,  then,  that 
for  the  carrying  onward  of  our  great  work,  a new 
impulse  must  be  given  to  the  piety  of  the  Church.  A 
returning  to  God  there  must  be  on  the  part  of  the 
backsliding,  and  a brokenness  of  heart  such  as  David 
exemplified.  There  must  be  in  us  all  a deeper  Chris- 
tian experience.  A more  self-abasing,  Christ-exalting 
spirit  must  we  exercise ; more  honest  and  hearty  must 
be  our  self-consecration,  more  simple  and  childlike  our 
confidence  in  God.  To  this  end,  with  what  earnestness 
should  we  seek  the  outpouring  of  the  Divine  Spirit. 
Who  can  estimate  the  blessing  that  would  come  to 
the  heathen  world  from  a general  revival  of  religion 
in  our  land  ? 

And  what  we  do,  I add  in  closing,  it  becomes  us  to 
do  quickly.  What  \ urgency  is  upon  us,  from  the  clus- 
tering prayers  of  departed  generations,  and  from  the 
converging  lines  of  a glorious  Providence  ! What 
preparation  for  the  present,  and  for  the  triumphs  of 
the  Gospel,  do  we  see  in  all  the  past ! What  a train- 
ing has  the  Church  had;  what  admonitory  lessons  has 
she  been  taught ! What  furniture  of  knowledge  has 
she  gained ! And  what  a highway  for  salvation  has 


31 


God  been  casting  up ! Inventions  and  discoveries, 
which  at  an  earlier  day  would  have  been  of  little  avail 
comparatively  — as  the  mariner’s  compass,  the  art  of 
printing,  the  steam  power,  the  modern  applications  of 
the  magnetic  force,  and,  chief  in  its  class,  the  discovery 
of  our  own  continent  — have  found  their  respective 
places  in  the  divinely  appointed  concatenation  of  in- 
strumentalities, just  as  they  might  best  tell  on  the 
work  of  redemption.  In  our  own  times,  what  a con- 
fluence of  helps  is  there  to  the  spread  of  the  Gospel. 
How,  as  intercommunication  has  been  facilitated,  have 
new  fields  been  opened,  and  old  ones  become  better 
known.  As  the  world  has  been  flowing  together,  how 
have  barriers  of  prejudice  and  custom,  of  national  and 
international  restraint  and  prohibition,  been  melting 
away.  How  is  commerce  proffering  “ its  wheel  and  its 
wing,”  to  bear  to  the  Gentiles  God’s  word  and  God’s 
messengers.  How  has  the  lightning  of  heaven  come 
down  to  earth,  that  it  may  flash  the  Gospel  around  the 
globe.  The  changes  among  the  nations,  how  coinci- 
dent are  they,  in  their  general  scope,  whatever  tempo- 
rary reverses  may  here  and  there  occur,  with  the  great 
aim  of  the  missionary  enterprise.  I speak  not  of  these 
things  as  themselves  to  be  rested  in ; how  plainly  do 
they  reveal  to  us  the  Saviour’s  hand.  On  island  and 
continent,  among  the  down-trodden  masses  and  on  the 
high  places  of  power,  I hear  the  sound  of  his  footsteps. 
As  he  cometh  thus,  to  “set  judgment  in  the  earth” — 
as  the  valleys  are  exalted  and  the  mountains  are  made 


32 


low,  as  the  crooked  is  made  straight,  and  the  rough 
places  are  made  plain  — how  should  his  people  gird 
themselves  for  the  work  he  assigns  them ! Seeing  ye 
behold  such  things,  brethren,  and  look  for  such  things, 
“ what  manner  of  persons  ought  ye  to  be,  in  all  holy 
conversation  and  godliness ! ” 


REPORT  OF  THE  SECRETARY. 


We  are  convened  to  night  to  celebrate  with  sacred  services  the  twenty- 
fifth  anniversary  of  the  Foreign  Missionary  Society  of  New- York  and 
Brooklyn.  In  presenting  their  report,  the  Board  of  Managers,  while  they 
gratefully  recognize  the  goodness  of  God  in  preserving  the  lives  of  so 
many  of  their  number  during  the  past  year,  are  called  upon  to  record  the 
death  of  one  of  their  most  honored  and  valued  members — the  Rev.  Erskine 
Mason,  D.  D.  After  a long  illness,  which  he  bore  with  exemplary  Christian 
resignation  and  fortitude,  he  departed  from  us  on  the  14th  of  May,  1851. 
His  services  in  the  cause  of  missions  were  among  his  distinguishing  labors. 
And  this  Society  has  reason  to  bless  God  for  the  monument  of  his  mission- 
ary zeal  and  fidelity  which  he  reared,  when  about  a year  before  his  decease, 
he  preached  the  first  of  these  annual  discourses,  and  presented  to  us,  and  to 
the  churches  associated  with  us,  one  of  the  most  enlarged  and  thorough 
surveys  of  the  condition  of  the  world  in  its  relations  to  the  religion  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  He,  though  dead,  still  speaks  to  us  these  words  of 
encouragement.  And  in  his  luminous  and  eloquent  reasonings,  imparts 
power  and  meaning  to  the  prophetic  declarations  of  the  Gospel’s  ultimate 
triumph. 

During  the  past  year  the  Society  has  continued  its  efforts  to  sustain  and 
advance  the  missionary  spirit  in  the  churches.  The  meeting  held  at  the 
Tract  House  on  the  Monday  of  the  monthly  concert,  has,  we  think,  never 
been  better  attended  or  more  useful. 

During  the  last  fall,  a committee  was  appointed  to  address  a circular 
letter  to  each  church,  on  the  importance  of  adopting  a systematic  flan  by 
which  to  develope  more  generally  the  missionary  spirit,  and  enlist  the 

3 


34 


prayers  and  contributions  of  as  many  members  as  possible  in  behalf  of  the 
cause.  This  letter  was  prepared,  and  sent  to  every  church  and  pastor,  with 
the  request  that  it  be  read  from  the  pulpit  on  the  Sabbath.  It  was  also 
published,  at  the  instance  of  the  Society,  in  several  of  the  religious  papers 
of  the  City. 

The  Board  of  Managers  have  also  been  assiduous  in  their  endeavors  to. 
secure  the  establishment,  in  this  metropolis,  of  a Secretary  of  the  A.  B.  C 
F.  M.,  who  shall  be  co-ordinate  with  the  Secretaries  at  Boston.  The  Parent 
Society,  at  its  late  meeting  in  Portland,  referred  the  subject  to  a special 
committee,  which  met  in  this  city  a few  months  since.  The  committee  of 
this  Society  conferred  freely  with  them,  and  the  hope  is  confidently 
cherished  that  the  object,  so  long  and  so  earnestly  sought  by  them,  will  ere 
long  be  attained. 

The  receipts  from  our  churches  are  in  advance  of  those  of  last  year 
nearly  two  thousand  dollars.  In  this  we  rejoice  ; though  when  we  consider 
the  magnitude  and  the  excellency  of  the  cause  of  missions,  and  the  number 
and  strength  of  our  churches,  we  should  rather  mourn  and  be  ashamed  of 
the  result. 

The  difficulty  of  awakening  and  sustaining  an  interest  in  a given  cause, 
is  very  much  in  proportion  to  its  spirituality.  The  more  material  and  tangi- 
ble its  results — the  more  conjoined  with  temporal  and  national  or  local 
interests  its  appeals,  the  more  immediately  successful  will  an  enterprise 
ordinarily  be:  while  that  object,  whose  promotion  is  dependent  almost 
entirely  upon  personal  holiness  and  a simple  faith  in  God’s  Word,  will  meet 
with  a multitude  of  appalling  difficulties,  and  be  exposed  to  many  reverses 
and  disasters  in  an  unsanctified  and  unbelieving  church.  The  conquest  and 
subjugation  of  the  millennial  Canaan  by  the  church, is  not  unlike  that  of  the 
Jewish  Canaan  by  the  Israelites.  The  river  Jordan — the  sons  of  Anak — 
the  walled  towns — still  exist,  and  are  prevalent  against  the  command  and 
promise  of  the  Almighty  Himself.  Labor,  which  is  mostly  in  anticipation 
of  results  in  the  distant  future,  preliminary  toils  and  sacrifices,  which  are 
attended  with  very  little  present  and  tangible  reward,  require  a simple 
heroic  faith — a self-sacrificing  martyr  spirit,  rare  in  this  age.  Hence 
it  is  that  the  grandeur  of  the  missionary  enterprise  is  so  feebly  appreciated, 
its  appeals  are  so  unimpressive,  its  enlargement  so  difficult,  its  concerts  for 
prayer  so  thinly  attended. 

While  no  cause  in  the  present  keeping  of  the  Christian  church  has  so 
manifestly  and  abundantly  the  sanction  of  Heaven  and  the  co-operation  of 


35 


God,  as  ha9  that  of  Foreign  Missions,  there  is  almost  no  proportionate 
estimate  of  its  worth  and  grandeur.  With  a religion  that  commands  us  to 
love  our  neighbor  as  ourselves — to  embrace  a lost  world  in  our  sympathies, 
how  little  is  done  by  the  Church  in  this  land  to  evangelize  the  heathen,  com- 
pared with  what  she  is  doing  for  religion  at  home  ? And  has  not  the  reason 
for  this  already  been  intimated  ! viz.,  that  the  work  is  so  eminently  spiritual, 
the  labor  is  to  so  great  an  extent  preliminary  and  in  anticipation  of  results. 
In  our  home  efforts,  faith  is  mixed  with  sight.  Patriotism,  temporal  interests, 
denominational  rivalries,  and  immediate  results,  combine  with  the  purer  mo- 
tives of  Christianity : and  it  is  a question,  whether  we  do  not  deceive  our- 
selves, when  we  attribute  to  piety,  results  which  the  piety  alone  of  the 
Church  never  would  have  accomplished. 

During  the  year  1850,  the  churches  contributed  to  the  various  religious 
benevolent  societies,  whose  operations  are  almost  exclusively  in  this  country, 

1.500.000  dollars,  while  675,000  was  the  total  of  contributions  for  foreign 
missions.  But  this  presents  a very  imperfect  view  of  the  case.  During 
that  year,  Christians  in  this  country  paid,  at  the  lowest  estimate,  12,300,000 
dollars  for  the  support  and  propagation  of  the  Gospel  at  home,  in  salaries, 
erecting  churches,  and  aiding  the  societies  above  referred  to,  and  only 

675.000  to  the  evangelization  of  the  world* 

The  missionary  enterprise  is  one  almost  exclusively  of  faith.  The  con- 
version of  8 or  900,000,000  of  depraved,  apostate  souls,  imbedded  in  ancient 
idolatries,  in  ignorance,  in  despotism,  in  the  pagan  customs  of  centuries,  con- 
cerning whom  it  is  written  that  God  hath  given  them  up  to  uncleanness  and 
vile  affections,  and  a reprobate  mind — upon  whom  the  influences  of  an 
unhallowed  civilization  are  ten  thousand  fold  more  abundant  and  efficient 
than  those  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ, — the  conversion  of  a world  dead  in  sin, 
is,  I say,  a work  to  be  prosecuted  under  the  auspices  of  a living,  childlike 
faith — a principle  of  action  more  powerful  and  more  pure  than  would  be 
the  inspiration  of  the  most  extensive  and  brilliant  success.  When  Chris- 
tians shall  look  not  at  difficulties  nor  disasters,  but  only  at  the  face  of 
Christ,  and  shall  encourage  themselves  not  upon  the  favorable  indications  of 
a changing  empire  or  state,  but  in  the  promises  of  an  unchanging  God,  and 
in  the  glorious  issues  of  futurity, — when  Christians  shall  thus  regard  the 
cause  of  missions,  its  triumph  will  commence.  For  faith  can  do  again  what 
it  has  done  in  the  past — subdue  kingdoms — turn  to  flight  the  armies  of  the 


• These  statistics  are  taken  from  Dr.  Baird’s  “ Progress  and  Prospects  of  Christianity  in  the 
United  States.” 


36 


aliens — obtain  promises — overcome  the  world.  The  Church  will  continue 
her  operations  amid  the  shaking  and  overturning  of  the  nations.  And  her 
labors  which  cannot  be  shaken — which  are  never  in  vain,  shall  remain  the 
foundation  of  the  world’s  thorough  and  lasting  regeneration,  whereon  shall 
be  planted  the  pillars  of  the  new  Heavens,  under  which  shall  dwell 
righteousness. 

THOMAS  H.  SKINNER,  Jr., 

Corresponding  Secretary. 


THE  FOREIGN  MISSIONARY  SOCIETY  OF  NEW-YORK  AND  BROOKLYN, 
in  account  current  with  their  Treasurer,  J.  W.  Tracy. 


Cr. 


From 

By  Cash,  from  the  followin, 

X sources : 

April  13, 

Allen  Street  Presbyterian  Church,  New  York, 

$129  00 

1851. 

Bleecker  Street  do 

do  “ 

875  06 

to 

Brainerd  do 

do 

101  30 

March  31,  Brick  do 

do  “ 

983  14 

1852. 

Broadway  Tabernacle 

do 

258  01 

Central  Presbyterian 

do 

687  40 

Church  of  the  Puritans 

do  “ 

1,252  27 

Eastern  Congregational 

do  “ 

19  09 

Eighth  Avenue 

do  “ 

25  00 

Eleventh  Presbyterian 

do  “ 

88  85 

Fourteenth  Street  do 

do 

469  73 

Harlem  do 

do  “ 

76  60 

Houston  Street  do 

do  “ 

25  50 

Madison  Avenue  do 

do  “ 

100  00 

Mercer  Street  do 

do  “ 

6,139  11 

Pearl  Street  do 

do  “ 

174  74 

Presbyterian  Ch.  on  University  Place  “ 

250  00 

Seventh  Presbyterian  Church  “ 

203  77 

Spring  Street  do 

do 

U 

81  76 

Tenth  do 

do 

(( 

293  65 

Thirteenth  Street  do 

do 

1C 

38  06 

West  do 

do 

U 

406  60 

Sundry  donations  in  New  York  and  Brooklyn, 

1,012  74 

Bedford  Congregational  Church,  Brooklyn, 

11  39 

Central  Presbyterian 

do  ‘‘ 

17  12 

Church  of  the  Pilgrims, 

do  “ 

2,065  23 

Clinton  Avenue  Cong. 

do  “ 

40  00 

First  Presbyterian 

do  “ 

830  58 

Fulton  Avenue  Cong. 

do  “ 

45  00 

Plymouth  do 

do  “ 

452  46 

Second  do 

do  “ 

123  68 

Second  Presbyterian 

do  “ 

456  28 

South  do 

do 

1.219  32 

Third  do 

do  “ 

138  63 

First  Presbyterian  Church,  Williamsburgh, 


12,641  38 


- 5,399  69 
68  75 

$18,109  82 


From 

April  13,  To  Cash  paid  rent  of  room  for  monthly  meetings, 

1851,  “ Expenses  of  Committees, 

to  “ for  3000  copies  Mr.  Storrs’  Sermon, 

March  31,  “ A.  Merwin  agent  A.  B.  C.  F.  M.  at 

1852.  sundry  times  as  per  receipts, 


Dr. 


E.  & 0.  E. 

New  York,  March  31,  1852. 


$8  00 
18  OO 
127  00 

17,956  82 

$18,109  82 


J.  W.  Tracy,  Treasurer. 


Examined  and  Found  Correct. 


David  Hoadley,  ) 
Walter  S.  Griffith,  $ 


Auditors. 


LIST  OF  OFFICERS 


FOR  THE  TEAR  1852. 


PRESIDENT. 

JASPER  CORNING. 


VICE-PRESIDENTS. 

ANSON  G.  PHELPS,  I JOHN  A.  DAVENPORT, 
WILLIAM  C.  GILMAN,  j DAVID  HOADLEY. 


CORRESPONDING  SECRETARY. 

Rev.  THOMAS  H.  SKINNER,  Jr. 


RECORDING  SECRETARY. 

ALMON  MERWIN. 


TREASURER. 

J.  w.  TRACY. 


DIRECTORS. 


Allen  Street  Presbyterian  Church 
Bleecker  Street  “ “ 

Fourteenth  Street  “ “ 

Brick 

Broadway  Tabernacle  “ 

Central  Presbyterian  “ 

Church  of  the  Puritans,  “ 

Duane  St.  Presbyterian  Church 
Eastern  Congregational  “ 

Eighth  Presbyterian  “ 

Eleventh  “ 

Harlem  “ “ 


. . . M.  T.  Hewit,  Edward  Chapin. 

. . . Charles  N.  Talbot,  Charles  Gould. 
. . . Wm.  A.  Booth,  VV.  E.  Dodge. 

. . . A.  L.  Ely,  C.  II.  Merrt. 

. . . W.  G.  West,  David  Dale. 

. . . Frederick  Bull,  A.  O.  Van  Lennep. 

. . . O.  E.  Wood,  Homer  Morgan. 

. . . C.  E.  Pierson,  Wm.  Walker. 

. . . Stephen  Cutter,  Lewis  Chichester. 
. . . Henry  D.  Crane,  R.  It.  Wood. 

. . . J.  E.  Marshall,  E.  B.  Littei.l. 

. . . E.  Ketchum,  James  Hiker,  Jr. 


39 


Houston  Street  Presb.  Church, 
Mercer  Street  “ “ 

Pearl  Street  “ “ 

Presb.  Church,  University  Place, 
.Xorth  Presbyterian  Church, 
Seventh  44  “ 

Spring  Street  “ “ 

Tenth  “ 44 

Thirteenth  Street  “ 44 

West  “ 44 


. . . E.  H.  Burger,  S.  Derrickson. 

. . . J.  B.  Sheffield,  Anson  G.  Phelps,  Jr. 
. . . Hugh  Akman,  F.  II.  Bartholomew. 

. . . W.  W.  Stone,  J.  K.  Myers. 

. . . O.  H.  Lee,  James  Reeve. 

. . .Alexander  Milne, Charles  Merrill. 
. . . Joseph  S.  Holt,  Charles  W.  Fisher. 
. . . J.  F.  Joy,  L.  E.  Jackson. 

. . . J.  N.  Danforth,  Dan  Knight. 

A.  D.  F.  Randolph,  Abram  L.  Earle. 


Bedford  Cong.  Church , Brooklyn, 
Bridge  st.  44  44  44 

Central  Presb.  “ u 

Clinton  Ar.  Cong.  44  44 

Church  of  the  Pilgrims,  44 

First  Presbyterian  Church , “ 
Plymouth  Cong.  “ 44 

Second  Presbyterian  44  44 

South  44 

South  Cong.  44  44 

Third  Presbyterian  44  “ 

Fulton  Avenue  Cong.  Ch.  44 


. . . . D.  O.  Caulkins,  Edward  T.  Goodall. 
. . . . Wm.  Vail,  Clark  Jacobs. 

Charles  C.  Mudge,  D.  J.  Ledyard. 

S.  Davenport,  Mark  H.  Newman. 

. . . Chs.  J.  Stedman,  Alfred  S.  Barnes. 

Alfred  Edwards,  R.  J.  Thorne. 

J.  Tasker  Howard,  H.  C.  Bowen. 

....  Charles  Clarke,  Lucius  Hopkins. 

. . . Walter  S.  Griffith,  D.  W.  Ingersoll. 
. . . . S.  W.  Grant,  Solomon  Freeman. 
....  W.  W.  Hurlbut,  Jno.C.  Halsey,  M.D. 
F.  W.  Burke,  Alfred  Smithers. 


First  Presb.  Ch.,  Williamsburgh, . . . .Paul  J.  Fish. 


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